#MicroblogMondays: Writer's block

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

I've been finding myself pulling away from this space. Posts drafted in my head are going unwritten and comments unanswered. Too often, when I sit down to write, the cursor key sits blinking back at me. It's been frustrating and there's been many times I've wondered if the best thing is for me to close up shop and wish everyone well.

Last week, after a particularly bad presentation in lab meeting and frustration over the fact that writer's block has also seeped into my work (I have a review due in January that I have yet to generate a good solid draft for), I wrote a friend who is in the middle of writing a science fiction novel. I honestly expected some general tips, such as drafting an outline, creating a space to write and even setting a schedule. All good bits of advice and things he did suggest. But what I didn't expect was for him to identify something I wasn't even being honest with myself about.

Many people say that writers block, or procrastination in general, is all about fear (and I think that's sort of right). For me, anyway, it's about the discomfort or despair, even, that comes from knowing I need to do something, but not having a sense of what will get me there or how to know if what I've done is good enough. This is distinct from being unable to do something (as) being unable to know, or perhaps believe, you are making the right first steps or being unable to visualize the steps from where you are to completion can make it very hard because there's a little voice there that says this is pointless, you're not doing the right thing, it's all a waste of time.

For awhile now, I've been trying to determine what my place is in this community. The Beats will be 2 1/2 yrs old at the end of this month and it will be 3 yrs since that finally round of treatment that lead to them coming home. Our family is complete, hence there will be no more rollercoaster rides. So I'm struggling with quilt as I watch those I previous sat in the trenches with reenter in order to continue to expand their families. There are many days where I worry I'm causing more harm than good.

There's also fear in putting my thoughts out there. There are now some serious scars from being attacked by those I believed I could trust and cut down because my experiences or life choices differed from others. It's easy to talk about having a thick hide or being resilient until one is attacked. And, quite frankly, though I respect others' opinions or viewpoints, I really don't want to be engage in fights where one party is intent on winning at all costs.

So instead, I've found myself labeling posts as "pointless" or "a waste of time." I've allowed myself to be silenced as I'm burnt out on potential drama.

But maybe, just maybe, I need to stop worrying about all of that. Take chances again with writing from the heart. Because those I've met and loved in this community have done just that. Trolls be damned and all.

Breaking the rules

From a young age, I've been one to strictly adhere to rules. From walking in a straight line, waiting my turn, obeying traffic laws and even not cutting tags off mattresses. Being the eldest child and grandchild didn't help, as it was firmly engrained in me that it was my job to set a good example for both my siblings and younger cousins. Hence I was the "good" child, excelling academically, obeying curfew, going to college and avoiding any situation that could potentially bring shame upon me and my family. I did what I was told and believed firmly that there was a natural order that should be followed.

That all changed when I found myself diagnosed with infertility and watching my family fawn over teenage cousins who found themselves pregnant. My world was rocked as I found myself shunned and discarded, with my mother emphasizing that attention needed to focused solely on them. As time has gone on, more examples have surfaced where breaking the "rules" or ignoring a beneficial order has hurt us while helping those who take advantage. From hanging onto our condo through the financial crisis (we learned recently that others who went through foreclosure have recovered financially and are now purchasing houses), to following advice of mentors (the fields I've been discouraged from are now very lucrative and hiring) to even advice on career transitions (don't get me started). The long and the short of it is that despite what others advise and attest to, there are many examples where cheating the system can actually be more rewarding.

This past week things came to a head. With She-Beat being sick, I've been home with her meaning I've been missing more work than I care for. Granted the bonding that has happened has been priceless, but considering I have a limited amount of time to do my postdoc, I've been feeling rushed. What doesn't help either is that I'm still not sure what the next step is after this. E and I have began this conversation (finally got brave) and she still believes there's a lot of opportunity in academia, particularly within our field. The thing is I'm still uncertain if this is even the right path. On top of this, Grey hasn't been happy at work. Though only 3 months in to this position, it's already clear that the environment he's in is not engaging enough and he's frustrated with the culture that values punching a clock and billable hour over quality and insightfulness.

Yesterday evening, we had a heart-to-heart. We talked about being tired of following the rules and doing what others suggest. About how those who admittedly insist on procedure do so without having to live with the consequences we face. And a decision was made to start breaking some rules. To start reaching out and looking for opportunities. So Grey is warming up his networking again and I've scheduled a meeting with one someone in upper management at one of the big 3. In addition, I've started leaning more on others about their viewpoints by asking "why." Why do you believe this? Why are you so opposed? And what is your motivation for advising us so?

Already I'm facing some pushback. It's truly amazing how angry some people will get when advice is not immediately followed or adhered to. As if somehow it's a direct affront to do otherwise. Still, staying where we are and following the rules is hurting us. It's time to break them.

#MicroblogMondays: New traditions

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Last week, I came home to find our landlord has set up a Christmas tree on her front porch. Glowing beautifully in the night, I smiled and wondered what the response would be when the Beats got home with Grey after he picked them up from daycare. 30 mins later I got my answer, when both toddlers swiftly ran by me (not even stopping for their usual hug hello) and began excitedly point to and chattering about the "yellow, blue, green and red strawberry tree." After explaining that the lights (shaped like strawberries) where instead Christmas tree lights, they spent the rest of the evening talking about the Christmas tree and even insisted on saying good-night.

Given all of this, next weekend Grey and I are planning on getting a tree. To prepare, we began preparations by continuing a tradition from last year of making ornaments. This year we made salt dough ornaments, which both Beats were so excited about. Outside of remembering the importance of sharing cookie cutters and taking turns, each toddler did really well with this project and were easily entertained for over 30 mins. 

And the end result is fitting given all that has happened this year.

#MicroblogMondays: Small moments

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In the fluster and buster of the week, I hit a point where I craved a moment of familiar. So over the weekend, I found myself flipping through treasured cookbooks and recipes. And my imagination ran wild with the possibilities of losing myself in creating things from dough.

It was immediately settled for Sunday afternoon that I would teach the Beats to make chocolate chip cookies. As they watched the Kitchen Aid spin while flour was added to the egg, sugar and butter mixture, their attention was glued for what was happening in front of them. They lost interest when it came time to use the oven (partly due to me locking them out so to prevent anyone being burned), but quickly regained interest upon getting their first taste of what was created.

It's funny how with all the craziness in the world, caused by large events that seem completely out of our control, it's the small moments that can ground you. That simply taking a moment to so something so simple as mixing cookie dough and sharing the end product can instill a sense of calm and a promise for a better tomorrow.

#MicroblogMondays: Frazzled

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I was on the train when I first learned about Paris. Sitting in a tube of steel that was preparing to go underground, I scanned the news feeds that described the horror occurring in the city. Sitting quietly, I felt my body grow numb as my brain shut down. So much tragedy. All of it nonsensical. 

Sunday night, I felt the same anxiety rise during a conversation with my mom. The second she asked "what can I do for you?" I knew she was baiting me for a fight. Grey watched me in horror as I attempted to subdue any confrontation, listening instead as my mom went on about my paternal grandmother and how she was navigating that situation. All the while baiting me with comments about how all of this was new to her and that she wanted to know why I was now attempting to reestablish contact. What it comes down to is she's upset I did reach out to her as soon as I learned I was pregnant. But attempting any explanation will only lead to a fight, which she's unconsciously pushing for. And so I unsuccessfully try to calm her down before declaring I can't do any more for the night. Feeling numb and beaten afterwards.

One thing that continues to baffle is how insistent those who foster hate and anger are of their position. There's a certain pride they take in causing destruction and pain, as if it somehow justifies their own feelings. What they fail to ask is why there is this need to fight. What motivation is there to be won by taking? 

My nerves are raw from all of this. The danger seems so needless and the hate so stupidly unproductive. And I wish there were clear answers towards peace with all of this.  

Finding a path

It's Tuesday afternoon and I'm in a lecture hall sitting on the floor as it's standing room only. The office for postdoc affairs has organized a panel regarding how to successfully navigate interviews for academic jobs and, though new to this position, I am obliged to attend. Looking around the room, which is packed to the gills, I watch many senior postdocs fidget and furrow their brows as the professors give their insight into how to successfully navigate academic interviews. The explosion at the Q&A session clearly catches the faculty off guard as they are hit with question after question about "exactly how" to successfully secure a job. One professor's advice to "have fun" and "be excited" is brushed off. It's clear the stakes have risen.

Since the beginning this postdoc, I've wrestled with what exactly my long-term career path will be. E and I haven't discussed the particulars yet as I'm focusing on writing a review, getting experiments off the ground and thinking about funding. But it's a conversation we're likely going to have within the next year or so as I will need to prepare for the job market. The thing is, I struggle with how to tell her that I'm no longer convinced academia is a good fit.

The path for anyone pursuing careers outside of academia is an elusive one. Even with the obvious step towards industry, the reality that this transition is a lot more complex with many, many different facets is something most training graduate students are unaware of. Hence where my problem comes in as even though I'm aware of these roads, I'm lost as which one to pursue at the moment. What little I know of industry doesn't appeal as my training is not medically focused. There's the flip of pursuing something more business driven, but the limited exposure I've had to that culture where money is the main driver has left me with a sour taste in my mouth.

A few nights ago, I ventured way outside my comfort zone and attended a seminar on strategy consulting. The theory behind was appealing and given my training I thought it could be worthwhile pursuing. Instead I left the session feeling sick and deflated after the presenter spent most of the presentation talking about her work with a large energy company and the strategy behind soda pop distribution. Whining later that evening to Grey (and him chuckling following a couple "I told you so"), I realized that this was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

Similar to infertility, the road forward usually isn't clear. There are suggestions on how to proceed and often people indicating which directions are often the best to take. But at the end of the day, a lot of this process is filled with failure. Coming up against walls and deciding whether to turn around or scale them. Most often, the ultimate ending is never what was expected and becomes a question of whether the path chosen is one that allows the decision maker to grow.

I'm struggling at the moment. I know I need to continue pushing and exploring options. After all, it's the reason I pursued this postdoc as I knew it had the potential to open doors. And yet there is the temptation to put my head down and not face the unknown. Not yet anyway.

#MicroblogMondays: the other side of the story

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

"I don't care if you're going to tell everyone about what I have done to you. But please, just don't forget to tell them about what you did to me."
~Author unknown.

This past weekend, Grey and I received news that his eldest nephew is leaving his mother. For years since my BIL divorced his first wife, she has used games and lies to drive a wedge between this boy and the rest of Grey's family. Granted, Grey's eldest brother has had his role. He's made decisions that haven't been in the best interest of his family. But the story has been very one sided.

Over the past few years, though, the truth has been coming out. The picture-perfect lifestyle she worked so hard to maintain has unraveled. The final straw came when a new boyfriend harmed our nephew's dog, making it clear he wouldn't hesitate to do so again. And with that plans are in motion for him to finally break away from her.

I've been reflecting on all of this with my own reconnection with my parents and past failed relationships. And how quick those observing are to judge given limited information. Most often, those that are loudest and share only their viewpoints are the victors in winning the populous, with others quickly condemning the other party. In divorce, children are often encouraged to chose sides, backing one parent over the other. In break-ups, groups of friends usually favor one half of the former couple over the other. There are winners and losers, often determined on limited information.

But often, there's another side of the story. A side that can reveal complexities that humanize both parties and blur the line of winner vs. loser. And given enough time and a little bit of digging, the truth tends to reveal itself. 

My own mother has a long history of painting things in black-and-white. Making it seem like someone is completely in the wrong in order to justify righteous behavior. The problem is, though my mother truly believes that certain actions and interactions have been justified, she often struggles with seeing how someone else was hurt in the process. The narrative in her head wouldn't allow for if because doing so meant she might actually not be completely in the right. And it was this pushing and righteousness that drove me away. That built the brick wall that exists between us still today.

On the heels of this news, my heart is heavy. There's a lot of good that can come if the wheels of change are enacted. But there will be grief in this process too. For I know my nephew loves his mother with all his heart, her flaws and all. Just as I love my own mother. But sometimes, screaming and fighting to have one's side of the story be heard isn't worth spending yourself. Sometimes the best thing to do is walk quietly away.